Red

Blood staining tile signifying death and red roses
in her lifeless hands laying in the casket only
five days later.

That horrid, wretched color brings nothing
but pain and suffering and how could it have
ever been her favorite?

To them, that is all red is anymore; they cannot
see how it is appreciated or loved because
how terrible to love something that always ends in death.

They are blind, eyes covered to any
point of view that can show them the other side
of the thing that took their daughter, their sister, their friend and their lover.

There is no remembrance that the red was her
whole life inside of her and the
passion in her eyes.

She lived red for all of the good that it
represented; consuming love, that burning fire and
lovely, lively, red roses.